


Taking Back Quincy

by DeathclawQunari



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Revenge, Slightly Out-of-Character Preston
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathclawQunari/pseuds/DeathclawQunari
Summary: Audrey and Preston take a trip to Quincy to avenge the fallen and give some closure to the survivors.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It always bothered me that Preston didn't have any extra dialogue/quests for Quincy after you got him out of the museum, so I came up with this. The first chapter is pretty short, but the next couple will definitely be longer. Enjoy!

“Alright everybody, listen up. Colonel Garvey and I will be making a trip to Quincy to gather any belongings you had to leave behind. If you need something specific, be sure to let one of us know and we will get all requests that are within reason.” Audrey stood in the living room of what had once been Ms. Rosa’s home, now the temporary base of Minutemen operations, and surveyed the small group. Sturges leaned against a bookcase, his broad frame slightly guarding the frail elderly woman that sat behind him. Beside him, the Longs were perched on the edge of a faded love seat; Jun was nearly doubled over, his palms pressed against his eyes, Marcy’s thin arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Maybe we can get this place feeling a little more like home for you folks.”

Marcy scoffed. “What, you think that just because Garvey gave you some fancy title you can march down there and bring our lives back? That you can miraculously fix everything with a few material possessions?” she scorned, each word edged with steel. “Well, news flash, General, some of us left behind things you can’t load up on a pack brahmin, and some of us can’t just go traipsing across the Commonwealth to get our son.” She stood, pulling her husband up with her. “Come on, Jun. Let’s go.” Her icy stare bore into Audrey’s eyes until the couple passed through the doorway.

From her seat in the corner, Mama Murphy spoke up. “Don’t let Marcy bother you, kid. She’s grieving in her own way.”

“No, she’s right. I should have put more thought into what I said,” she half-mumbled. She cleared her throat and straightened her back, attempting an illusion of authority. “We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning. Thank you for your time.” She gave a curt nod to the small audience and headed back to her own home across the street, Preston at her heels. 

“Mama Murphy’s right, General,” he said, closing the door behind them. Audrey plopped down on the ratty sofa and buried her head in her hands. “You can’t let her get to you. She’s like that to everyone.” 

“How am I supposed to get on her good side when I keep putting my foot in my mouth?” she groaned. 

Preston pulled two canisters of water out of the broken fridge and sat down next to her. “You didn’t say anything wrong. Marcy’s just... well, Marcy.” He sat one of the cans on the coffee table and pushed it toward her. “She was skeptical of the Minutemen when we showed up – her and Jun both were – but she was kind. She wasn’t cynical like she is until after she lost her son. ”

“Kyle,” she whispered. She sat up, taking the water. “I talked to Jun shortly after everyone got settled in. He talked about him a little, but I didn’t want to press about it.” 

“He had gotten hit in the knee. It barely grazed the bone, but he couldn’t walk on it. We were getting ready to leave; Jun was carrying him.” Preston let out a deep breath, his shoulders shuddering. Audrey looked over as a tear slid down his cheek. “It… it hit his temple. Jun just collapsed. Marcy had to drag him away. There wasn’t time to stop; they had a sniper on the highway that was picking us off. We lost five more before we reached Jamaica Plain. Jun was – well, you saw him at the Museum. That was a month after Quincy.” He leaned his head back onto the red cushion and closed his eyes. 

“They never had a chance to find closure.” Silence settled between them, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Audrey took a long drink, and sat the empty can back on the coffee table. “Do you remember where you left him?”

“What are you thinking, General?” Preston sat up, giving her an inquisitive stare.

“Burying Nate helped me adjust. It was like I buried my past alongside him. Maybe being able to put Kyle to rest will help the Long’s. It would be worth a try, I think.”

He nodded. “It was by an old Red Rocket. I’m not sure exactly where he is, but I’m sure we can find him.” He patted her knee before standing to leave. “I’ll be next door if you need anything.” He paused at the doorway. “Goodnight, General.”

“Goodnight, Preston.”


	2. Chapter 2

They made it to Jamaica Plain two days later, the sun still beating down in front of them. As they passed beneath the main gates, a minuteman ran up to greet them. “Robert Nelson, at your service, ma’am. I had the Gunner encampment scouted as you requested, though we never breached the city gates. We got too close to their southern defenses and DeLuca about lost her arm to a damned assaultron.” He led them to a small shack that housed a cluttered table and several filing cabinets. Preston began shuffling through the papers as the man continued. “I’m sure this isn’t the accommodations you’re used to back at the Castle, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment. I’ve prepared a private room in the caravan lodge for you and Colonel Garvey, but to be honest, it’s just the attic space with a couple of mattresses and an oil lamp.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant Nelson, for all of your hard work and hospitality. Has anyone made contact with the Peabody residence?”

“Yes ma’am, I sent two of my boys down there shortly before you arrived. They should be back any minute now.”

Excellent. Make sure they’re well taken care of during their stay; Matt and Carol are personal friends of mine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get started going through this intel.” He gave a small tug to the front of his hat and headed back to his guard post. Audrey turned back to the table Preston was still hunkered over. “So what do you make of it?”

“They’ve mapped the area as best as they can. From the radio transmissions, it looks like there are three high ranking officers within the city and an unknown number of privates and initiates. Two of the officers are in the main part of the city, but one is camped up on the old freeway. If these reports are right, it’s that bastard Clint.”

“I’m not sure I know who that is,” she said, moving around him to better see the reports scattered across the table.

“He was a member of the minutemen. He showed up when Colonel Hollis sent for reinforcements, but instead of helping us defend the settlers he tried to talk us into standing down.” He clenched the edges of the table in a white-knuckled grip. “He led the Gunner’s assault on Quincy. He sold those people out for nothing more than personal gain. With your permission, General, I would like to take care of him myself.”

“Of course. How many others are stationed on the freeway?” 

“At least three during the day, but they only have two at night. Clint has his personal quarters on the upper level, but the privates tend to stay on the lower level.” Preston sighed and pressed a hand to his temple. “He’s also got a suit of power armor, though it says they weren’t able to get close enough to determine which model. If they’re using the ones Sturges left behind, I would bet it’s either T-51 or T-60.”

“You’ll need to get to him before he has a chance to get in it. Can you do that?” She looked over at him, his eyes never moving from the papers in front of him. His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed. Audrey hadn’t seen him so tense since the meeting with a small group of Minutemen shortly before reclaiming the Castle.

“If we strike late enough, he’ll already have retired for the night. That should buy me all the time I need.” 

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Why don’t you rest for a few hours? I’ll get our gear together and go over things with Nelson.”

“You need to rest too, General. You already do almost everything for the settlements, the least I can do is -”

“Get some rest, Preston. That’s an order.” She gave him a stern glare that melted into a soft smile. 

He smiled back and gave a half-hearted salute. “Yes ma’am.”

He ducked out of the small shack and once he was out of ear shot, she let out a long sigh. Stealth operations were about a mile outside of her comfort zone, and while Preston was good at following orders, he was prone to ‘hiding’ out in the open. She checked the time on her pip-boy; it was barely noon, plenty of time before sundown. She sat out to get things ready, a deep sense of trepidation settling low in her stomach.

 

Once night had fallen, they made their way through the muddy trenches of the swamp that lay between Jamaica Plain and Quincy. Audrey’s vault suit was waterproof but her boots, however, were not and within minutes of leaving the settlement her feet were little more than waterlogged bricks. They clung to the shadow of the freeway, following it to its southern edge where it dipped down to meet the marsh. Halfway up they parted ways, Preston taking the crumbling ramp onto the upper level. Audrey closed her eyes for a moment and muttered a prayer under her breath, an old habit she learned from her mother a lifetime ago, and pulled out her rifle. 

One gunner sat around a fire barrel, the other paced between a car and a tractor trailer – Wallace and Davies if the intel was right. Holding her breath, she let the first round go, clean through the seated gunner, spraying a mix of blood and brain matter on the other one. She ran ahead, still crouched in the darkness, taking cover behind the rusted car. Red laser blasts flew overhead as the panicked gunner shot blindly in the dark. She swapped the rifle for Deliverer and swung out from behind the car, putting two rounds through his chest as another laser hit the concrete beside her.

Beside the first body, a ham radio crackled to life. “Clint! What the hell is going on over there?”

Audrey put one more round in the man, this one between his eyes, and grabbed the microphone. “Sorry Sargent. My rifle seems to have misfired and Davies here returned fire.” 

“Who the hell am I talking to?”

“This is Private Wallace, sir.” She held her breath as the radio was silent, hoping she hadn’t just blown her cover. After what felt like an eternity, she got a response.

“Well, watch what you’re doing, Private. We’re all jumpy enough without you assholes shooting at each other over there.”

She let out a long sigh. “Yes, sir.”

“Sargent Baker out.” 

Audrey switched off the radio and began loading artillery grenades into a modified missile launcher. Preston came up the ramp, pushing a heavily sedated man in front of him. “Sorry for the delay, General. I got the syringes mixed up, shot him with a lock-joint at first instead of the Pax and I had to wait for him to be able to move.” He tied the man’s hands behind his back and forced him to his knees.

“One of the other officers made contact over the radio, I think he bought what I told him but we should still hurry just in case.”

Preston started to respond, but the man groaned, coming to his senses. “Fuckin’ Garvey. I didn’t think you had the balls to come after me. What’re you gonna do, bore me to death with one of your patriotic speeches?” he sneered. “I don’t know what you and your friend think you’re gonna accomplish here.”

“My friend is General Anderson, and I suggest you show her respect.” Preston balled his fist by his side. 

Clint laughed, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s a joke, right? A fuckin’ Vault Dweller is the General? Fuckin’ Christ, and I thought Becker was bad.”

Preston swung, his fist dislocating Clint’s jaw with a sharp crack. “You’re going to pay for what you did to the people here.”

He spit, blood mixed with his saliva. “Save the speech, Preston. Those people were gonna die anyway.” 

“They didn’t have to!” he roared. He swung again, knocking the patrolman glasses off the older man’s face. 

“You just don’t get it, do you Garvey? This is how the world works. Bein’ nice only gets you so far. Hollis had to learn the hard way. You make the same mistake he did and you’re gonna die like him.” 

Preston let out a guttural growl and lunged forward, grabbing Clint by the shoulders and slamming his head into the concrete. “Colonel Hollis was a good man!” He brought his fist down again, pummeling the man until Audrey pulled him back. 

“Preston, stop!” The pair of them fell back, both breathing hard. Preston stood, trying to regain his composure as Audrey picked up the launcher and shot three artillery grenades over the town. The blue smoke was barely visible in the dark, but the trackers would pinpoint their location for the few minutemen that had pip-boys. “We should be clear of the blast zone, but we should still find cover. What do you want to do with him?”

“He gets a front row seat to the fireworks.” He pulled a length of rope out of his pack and wrapped it around Clint’s torso, securing it with a looped knot. He drug the man over to one of the freeway’s supports and tied the other end to the green metal. “While you’re hanging here waiting to die, I want you to think of all the people that died because of your actions. Mayor Jackson, Sloan, Fenton, Irma, little Kyle. All those deaths are on you, and I hope to God you rot in hell for it.” He heaved Clint up and dropped him over the side of the freeway, watching the flailing man for a moment before joining Audrey in the empty trailer.

She tuned her pip-boy to Radio Freedom. After a moment, the colonial music was replaced by the voice of one of her Minutemen. “Alright, General, we’ve got a lock on your location. Firing from Murkwater, Jamaica Plain, and Warwick in three, two, one…” The deep echo from each artillery shell reverberated off the metal walls, followed by the incoming woosh punctuated with a trio of detonations. Debris flew up onto the overpass, raining down on the trailer. Screams from the injured pierced the air before being silenced by the second hail of explosives. Two more waves followed suit before the Minuteman came back on the radio and delivered the all clear. Audrey clicked off the radio and followed Preston out of the trailer back to where they had left the Gunner lieutenant. 

At first she thought he was dead, his body swinging from the overpass, but after a long silence she could hear him weakly calling for help. “You can’t just leave him here. This is more than just getting revenge, this is torture.”

Preston pursed his lips. “He deserves it. After what he did…”

“No one deserves this. Put him out of his misery or I will.”

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it. He pulled out a knife and cut through the rope. Clint’s body hit the road beneath them with a wet smack that turned Audrey’s stomach. She turned and headed toward the wooden bridge connecting the highway to one of the old houses. Preston jogged to catch up. “General…”

“Don’t, Preston. Just… don’t.”

The trek back to Jamaica Plain was silent save for the endless cacophony of bullfrogs and cicadas, and Audrey found herself dreading the long walk back to Sanctuary more than she had feared the mission tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning they dressed in silence, the tension from the night before still heavy between them. They stopped in the mess hall and traded caps for enough food to last them until they reached Diamond City, then grabbed their brahmin from the corral and headed back to Quincy. They combed through the ruins, slowly marking each item off the list, and by noon they had found all of the material possessions. 

“When Kyle… when we lost him, we had just left through the northeastern gates.” Preston cleared his throat, pushing back the emotion that had started to swell in his voice. “The Red Rocket shouldn’t be too far from here.”

Audrey placed a hand on his arm. “If you want to stay here…”

“No. I owe at least this much to the Longs.”

She squeezed his hand and offered him a somber smile, then headed toward the gates, Preston close behind her. They found his body beneath the gas station sign, his bones picked clean by the wasteland’s scavengers. Audrey pulled lidded vase from a trunk on the brahmin and began gathering the remains. She looked up when they had finished and met Preston’s watery eyes. 

“I, um… I need a moment.”

She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

He headed back toward the city, and Audrey began wrapping the vase in a thick woolen blanket before placing it back into the trunk. She stood, brushing the dirt from the knees of her jumpsuit and started for the old fueling station. Each Red Rocket was virtually indistinguishable from the next on the outside, but inside they all had different personalities. She paused at the doorway and ran her fingers over faded chalk markings; this one meant safehouse. Was this another casualty of the Switchboard disaster? She made a mental note to ask Dez about it when she made it back to the Church. 

Inside it looked like the previous tenants had left in a hurry. Boxes of snack cakes and cans of water were still on the shelves along with some decent salvage. Audrey ran her fingers across an empty oil lamp perched on the top shelf, taking a thick layer of dust off. She wandered past the front counter to the bathroom, checking the toilet tanks for chem stashes. In the second stall, a long string of graffiti caught her eye as she was turning to leave. It was a list of designations, some marked out and names written next to them. Close to the front of the list was G7-81 with a shaky line through it, Glory written to the side. She smiled; it was hard to imagine a time when the headstrong synth was anything other than walking confidence.

She headed back out of the station, picking up the Fancy Lads as she passed them. Preston was back, leaning up against an old Chryslus. “Hey General… Audrey… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For, y’know, last night and all.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you and –“ 

“No, you had every right to be mad at me. I let Clint get under my skin and I overreacted.”

Audrey sighed and gathered the reigns on the brahmin. “Have I told you about Kellogg?”

“I heard you mention him a few times when you brought Nick to Sanctuary, but I didn’t want to pry into your personal business.”

“He murdered my husband in the process of kidnapping my son, and I was helpless to stop him. When I caught up with him, I was so blinded by rage…” She sighed and shook her head. “He said it was admirable, my hunt for Shaun, said it was ‘the way I would act in your place, I like to think’. I thought it was just meaningless bullshit. Small talk to get me to lower my guard just enough he’d have an opportunity to strike. I took out the synths he had with him while he hid with a stealth boy, and once it was just the two of us firing I found him pretty quick. When the stealth field wore off, I took out his knees. I tried getting more information out of him, but he wouldn’t give me anything else. Just told me he had underestimated me, wondered how Nate would react if it was me carrying Shaun, said ‘the old man doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.’” 

She got quiet as they passed a caravan, no doubt one of her own provisioners, continuing only when she was sure they were out of earshot. “I wanted him to suffer, Preston. I wanted him to hurt like I had been hurting. I stripped his pockets, took his weapon, and I beat the shit out of him. When he got close to dying, I shot him up with pyschobuff. If Nick hadn’t found us, I don’t know how long I would’ve gone on. He told me something that day that’s stuck with me; ‘you don’t kill a monster by becoming one yourself.’” 

She was quiet again, and silence settled between them. They had walked almost a quarter mile before she softly spoke. “I see so much goodness in you, Preston. You’re a better person than me by a long shot, and I just don’t want to see this world chew you up and spit you out like it’s done to so many others.” 

Gently smiling, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “If there’s any good still in me, it’s because of you. You’ve given me a reason to get up in the morning, and for that I’ll never be able to repay you.”

She lightly squeezed his hand and drew her own back. “Well hey, that’s what friends are for, right?”

His face dropped for an instant before he plastered a fake smile on. “And we’re the best of friends.”

They rounded a corner and the back of the green jewel came into view. One more day on the road and they’d be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't my best work, and I thought about omitting it entirely, but I felt like having Preston apologize after they got back wouldn't have worked so well. And I wanted to make sure the Red Rocket made an appearance; it's marked as a RR safehouse in-game, but nothing is ever done with it, and I wanted to flesh it out a little without writing a whole new fic around it.


End file.
